Soldier
by corrupted-innocent
Summary: Heero and Duo are captured after a battle. - Slash; No spoilers; Assumed Character Death! Will remain a one-shot.


GW fic. My first posted one, so go easy. 1x2, if you don't mind, but hey, you've been warned. Rather angsty, but that will change soon. Though I DO need help with the plot. I have this annoying habit of starting a story, and then just loosing my inspiration halfway through. And it needs a title too. Any takers?  
  
Disclaimer: if you recognize it, it's not mine. if you DO recognize it, it IS mine. quite a simple concept, isn't it?  
  
Chapter 1 (???)  
  
"C'mon, stupid machines, come an' get me if y'can!" Duo yelled into his mike, though the countless hordes of Dolls surrounding him couldn't answer. He swung his scythe to the side, and the energy-based blade cut through the armor of three Dolls at the level of their fuel tanks, causing them to explode. Deathscythe and the closest Dolls were pelted with shrapnel and concealed in fog, but Heero, in a similar situation in Wing, didn't worry that he couldn't see the other pilot's laughing face on the screen. He continued to fight the Dolls surrounding him, silently, taking down one after another with his beamsword. The quarters were to close for the buster rifle- he would be taken down by sheer numbers and proximity if he paused for even a moment. The same went for Duo.  
The image of Deathscythe stepping out of that black cloud of smoke- like a specter of a demon from hell- was shown in frightening detail on one view screen in Heero's cockpit. On another, Duo's cockpit feed showed a more terrifying visage- Shinigami burned like fire in Duo's violet-blue eyes, and a small, feral smile graced his lips. Heero almost shivered at that face- almost. Knowing it was not directed at him comforted him, though he wouldn't admit under torture that he sometimes thought Duo a better pilot than he in battle.  
Deathscythe swept through the confused ranks of Dolls, scythe swinging madly, cutting down the machines like a Grim Reaper after an ancient battle. Wing swooped through the Dolls surrounding it, slashing at them with the beamsword clutched in its hand. Heero's attention was drawn away momentarily as Duo yelled "Oh, no, you don't!" Deathscythe was being held in place by four or five Dolls, gripping it tightly to prevent it from getting any leverage to escape, while at least ten more aimed mini-buster rifles at the area where the cockpit was.  
"Duo!" Heero yelled. Frantically, he began cutting down Dolls, trying to clear a path for Wing to get to Deathscythe and free Duo. But the Dolls, anticipating this, all piled in his way, grabbing onto Wing in the same way that they held Deathscythe. Heero watched in horror, still struggling, as the mini-buster rifles all hit Deathscythe simultaneously right over the cockpit. "DUO!!!" Deathscythe crumpled, smoking, and when the Dolls dropped it, it didn't move. Heero began to struggle harder, trying to get to Deathscythe to check on Duo, but the Dolls before him had trained their rifles on him, and there were almost ten holding him down, and then-  
  
***POV change***  
  
Duo came back to consciousness still strapped into Deathscythe's cockpit. He looked up to his view screens, but they were all fuzzed out. He could faintly hear the sound of other mobile suits nearby. Dizzy, he managed to pull himself out of the life-saving harness, keying the cockpit to open. He heard the mechanisms clank, then grind to a halt. That's not good. Duo thought. He crawled to the access hatch and reached a hand to the manual release, then jerked it back. The metal was hot- apparently, the blast that had knocked him unconscious had almost killed him. If the Dolls had kept up their fire for just a moment longer, he would have been incinerated. As it was, his hand was half-scorched, he had probably broken a few ribs (judging by how painful it was to breathe), a concussion, and a large cut on his temple and another on his arm, both bleeding profusely. And he would probably end up suffocating in here, since he couldn't open the hatch till the metal cooled without melting himself, and once it cooled down, it would harden as a lump and he'd never be able to get it open from inside then.  
Duo walked back to his chair and sat down, which resulted in him almost lying on his back because of the way Deathscythe was lying. He began to slow his breathing and pulse, and minimized his brainwaves, so that he wouldn't use so much oxygen. He was almost in a trance, when a large explosion rocked Deathscythe's frame, snapping him out of it. A scant second later, before Duo's reflexes had the chance to react and he jerked out of the seat, a large piece of pointed Gundanium armor painted white and blue came hurtling through the melted cockpit door, the tip stopping bare centimeters above Duo's nose.  
"Whoa," Duo said, shaky, "that was close." He stood up carefully, eyeing the metal. Then his eyes caught on the scorched paint-job, knowing it as intimately as the black markings of his own Gundam. "Heero . . . no, don't tell me-" Duo said, eyes following the piece of metal to where it had burst through his cockpit. There was a small gap between the edge of the cockpit and the huge piece of intruding, big enough- barely- for Duo to slip out on his belly. If he were quick enough he wouldn't scorch his back. Duo eyed the breach. He could hear the Dolls leaving them, thinking they were dead. Duo prayed they weren't right. He could just stay here- now that there was a gap in the metal he would be able to breathe, and he could wait for the metal to dry before escaping back to the safe house.  
But that would mean leaving Heero alone here, with pieces of his Gundam all around. No way. Duo grabbed his leather jacket from the back of the chair and put it on, then grabbed his black duffel bag and put in a first-aid kit and some rations. He pushed the bag out of the hole, careful not to burn his hands. Then he waited, listening as it fell for a second before thumping on something metallic, and then something softer, hopefully the ground. When there was no other noise, he pulled himself up onto the giant metal shard and crawled across its length  
  
***Scene Change***  
  
Zechs stood beside Tallgeese at the edge of the battlefield while soldiers went in on foot to locate pilots 01 and 02. He surveyed the wreckage of over fifty Dolls, centered around the two downed Gundams. Gundam 02 lay immobile on its side, the chest area slagged by a combined blast hit. The remains of Gundam 01 were nearby; pieces of its armor were imbedded in various Dolls, and the edge of one wing had gone through the weak, melted gundanium on Gundam 02. It was unlikely that either pilot had survived, and Zechs felt faintly guilty that two mere boys had been raised for such a war, and lost. He knew that the five pilots were experts in the field of war, better in many aspects than Treize or himself, but these boys had the losing deal. They would never know the meaning of peace, except now in death. "Commander!" A soldier yelled, breaking into Zechs' thoughts. "Commander, we've located both pilots, come quickly, sir!" Zechs located the man- not a year or so older than the very pilots he had been searching for, and perhaps a year younger than Zechs- standing on a large piece of Doll shrapnel. Zechs waved to the man to signal his understanding, then began to jog towards him, going over the remains of the mobile suits. After a few minutes, he came over the top of a giant metal leg and stopped to view the situation. Pilot 01 lay on his back on a piece of armor, hand dangling over the edge, six feet above the ground. Pilot 02 lay on his front, spread-eagle over top of pilot 01, so that they were chest to chest, with his head tucked under pilot 01's chin. Pilot 02's braid had come partially undone, fanning out over his back in a chestnut-brown curtain. His hand too hung over the ledge formed by the giant piece of metal armor, touching the other pilot's hand. Red blood dripped from his fingertips into a puddle forming on the ground below. "Are they alive?" Zechs queried the soldier standing nearest them. The man pulled himself up onto the ledge and checked them. "Yes, but not for long. I imagine they'd die if we left them here for a few hours. Pilot 01 is definitely about to go- he might not make it even with immediate medical attention." The soldier reported. "Very well, then." Zechs said. "Bandage them up and take them to the nearest base with medical facilities. Pretend it's me you're rescuing- I want them alive." "Uh . . . yessir!" The soldier said, saluting. Zechs returned the gesture and did an about-face, walking back to Tallgeese. He climbed into the cockpit and took off, sending off a comm. Search at the same time. "Tiger, this is Prince Charming, come in. I've been able to capture pilots 01 and 02, thought they are in bad condition and . . ."  
  
Duo blinked, coming groggily back to himself, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. He took in a deep breath, taking with it the smells of antiseptic, medicine, and clean linens. Hospital, then. He tried to move, but couldn't feel his muscles- couldn't feel much anything below his neck, for that matter. He was drugged, then. Duo tried to clear his eyes out so he could see better, blinking fast to rid them of their cloudiness, but he froze the minute he heard the voice. "Welcome back to the living, pilot 02." It said. Duo's mind backtracked, trying to think of all the doctors he knew to match the voice, but the answer he came up with wasn't one of those. Well then. "It's good to see you're awake, pilot." Zechs said, and Duo thought he detected a hint of sincerity beneath the suave mask in his voice. Duo turned his head towards the sound, and saw Zechs standing there beside the bed. He stared at him for a moment, then looked around the room, noting the escape routes and possible weapons. It was a one-man area, with one bed and one visitor's chair. Zechs stood leaning against the doorframe, watching him as he evaluated the room. He turned to leave after a minute, but Duo stopped him with a question. "Heero . . .?" Duo asked, his voice hoarse from disuse. "Is he alright, too?" Zechs faced the door, not answering. Duo felt a stab of fear lance through his heart at the other man's silence. "Is he . . . alive?" Zechs didn't move, but Duo read a thousand things in his stance, maybe some things that hadn't been written there. His mind began to go numb, as numb as his body, and he fought the tears that threatened to stream from his eyes, unwilling to be so weak in front of his enemy. "Oh." Was all he said, all he could manage to say. Zechs left.  
  
The blonde commander stood watching the videotapes of pilot 02's room in the hospital building. The boy just lay there, staring at the ceiling, doing nothing but breathing, as an occasional tear rolled silently down his cheek to disappear into the neck of his hospital gown. Zechs had not meant to make the boy believe that his fellow pilot was dead. Pilot 01-Heero- had been in surgery at the time, and the doctors had told Zechs that he probably would not survive. Zechs hadn't known how to put this in words to the braided pilot, not wanting to get the boy's hopes up, but had not needed to, as pilot 02 had come to his own conclusions. At the time, Zechs had thought it a good idea to leave the boy with that impression, thinking it would make the hyper-active and deadly sixteen-year-old more cooperative. In a sense, he'd gotten exactly what he wished for. The teenage soldier did exactly as the doctors told him, ate all his food, complained for nothing. But neither would he answer any questions. He was practically catatonic. Something in the videotapes caught Zechs' wandering attention, and he rewound them and hit play. For a few minutes, there was nothing, then pilot 02 did something shocking- he began to sing.  
  
"Sound the Bugle now Play it just for me As the seasons change Remember how I used to be Now I can't go on I can't even start I've got nothin' left Just an empty heart I'm a soldier Wounded so I Must give up the fight There's nothin' more For me Lead me away Or leave me lyin' here" 


End file.
